Interview at
Tassajara with SH by David Chadwick
done at the Alumni Retreat at Tassajara April 27, 2012

DC: Iíd like to
start off with Suzuki Roshi and then ask you how you got there and stuff
or you can start anywhere you want.

SH: The first I
heard about Suzuki Roshi was from Ruth Bossieux my friend and housemate
in a flat on Bush St. about Ĺ block from Sokoji around 1965. She had sat
at Sokoji with the early groups of people including Dwite Brown, Betty and
Shirley Wong, Phil Wilson, Jean Ross, Della Goertz, Bill Kwong. By the
time I met her she was no longer sitting at Sokoji but she told me what is
was like for her and talked about the people she lived with in the houses
across the street from Sokoji.

DC: Was Betty named
Wong too?

SH: Betty and
Shirley Wong are twins.

DC: Right, Iíve
heard of them. Phillip Wilson got in trouble for having relations with
one or both of them.

SH: Really!

Ruth Bossieux was
married to someone who knew Tim Buckley. Tim Buckley was at Tassajara at
that time. Tim came to our apartment to see Ruthís husband, Steve Tyler.
Tim also talked to me about Suzuki Roshi, and he talked about how being at
Tassajara had changed his life. He felt he had been on a downward track
and this experience he was having inspired him and made his life new
again. That was very inspiring to me. Before he went back to Tassajara
he said why donít you come to Tassajara and just see what itís like. So I
did. I went in the fall of 67 Ė maybe it was between practice periods, I
donít remember. I took a bus and Tim was on a town trip so he picked me
up. We arrived at Tassajara at night after dinner. Someone gave us some
food and after we ate I was washing the dishes in the little sink in the
original kitchen (small small kitchen) and Tim asked me if I wanted to sit
with everyone. I said sure, thinking that this would take place the next
day and I could say no if I changed my mind.

But he said, okay
letís go, zazen is starting right now.

DC: I was here at
that time.

SH: Yeah! Suzuki
Roshi wasnít here at that time. I think it was in November near
Thanksgiving. So he took me to the zendo. When we walked in, by kerosene
lamplight I saw rows of people sitting next to each other on cushions
facing the wall, not talking or moving, it was amazing to me. I had no
preparation for what I saw, had never seen anything like this, no one had
ever described that part to me, I had never read about it. The concept
was outside of anything in my life. Tim directed me to a zafu and sat
down next to me and said, so hereís what you do. Cross your legs (he put
his legs in full lotus) and you just sit here without moving until you
hear the bell. Donít move. Then he got up and left.

So I put my legs in
full lotus, I mean I was in my twenties and was flexible, had been doing
yoga, but I had never sat in full lotus for more than 5 minutes.

But he said put your
legs like this so I thought that was the way everyone was supposed to do
this and was already blown away by all the people sitting there without
moving or talking. So the very first exposure I had to any concrete part
of Zen Buddhism was this sitting which I came to with no preparation, no
prior knowledge or idea of what it was. My friend Ruth hadnít told me
what actually took place in the zendo. Much later it seemed that this
first sitting was a microcosm of the next 40 years of my life. I
experienced deeply a review of every issue that I had to work with, every
button got pushed, every fear was activated, especially when I saw this
huge shadow slowly, silently moving (over the top of the middle divider)
with the shadow of a long stick. Then randomly I heard the sharp slap of
the stick hitting someone and I literally started shaking in fear where I
was sitting thinking that when the stick came to me I would be hit
repeatedly until I ÖÖwhat? died? passed out? I donít know. But I didnít
move! Then the person with the stick passed behind me and didnít hit me!
Not to mention the extreme pain of sitting in full lotus for 40 minutes
without working up to that position. That night I didnít sleep at all
down in the last cabin across from the pool, no sleeping bag, no warm
blanket. I couldnít get warm.

So that was my
introduction to life at Tassajara. But it inspired me and I went back to
San Francisco and sat at Sokoji for as long as it took to be regarded as a
candidate for a practice period. Back in San Francisco at Sokoji is where
I first met Suzuki Roshi. The thing about him was that I trusted him. I
couldnít always trust the males in my life that had been father figures or
role models but he was someone in an authoritative position who I could
trust. Everything he said he also did himself and that in itself was
enough for me to want to continue with the practice, to consider him my
teacher. So there I was with whatever my issues were in my twenties and
it turned out that one of my issues was that I felt that everyone else got
Ďití and I didnít. And I didnít feel like I could personally relate one
to one with him, I didnít want to because he had so much responsibility
(all of us who were kind of crazy) and I didnít want to add to that. It
seemed that I could get enough by just being at a distance from him.

Of course, I did
also put him on a pedestal. If he was here now I know Iíd have a
different kind of relationship with him. But I loved him, his teaching,
the way he lived, his gentleness. I remember the scent of incense on his
robes when he walked past. The first time I had Dokusan was at Sokoji
during a sesshin. Again, I knew nothing about what it was, what the form
was and I was so nervous that I didnít understand the instructions about
what to do when I entered the room for Dokusan. So when I went into the
room I did everything wrong but thought I was doing it right. First, I
faced the wall instead of facing him and we sat there for a long while and
then he said, ďturn around and face meĒ, so with a deep feeling of shame
for having misunderstood I turned around and looked at him. He was
sitting on a raised platform and there was a light coming through the
window and when I looked at him he looked so tired and I just started
crying for his tiredness for his huge responsibility or at least that was
my projection on him. And that was my Dokusan Ė just crying.

So thatís what I did
at that time. I worked my life so that I could be around him at Sokoji or
Tassajara for the next few years. I had a job but I would take off for 3
months so I could come here for a practice period which I did twice.

At that time I liked
observing the Japanese priests who assisted Suzuki Roshi, Katagiri Roshi
and Kobun Chino for clues about Zen and what we were doing. To me the
whole Ďmysteryí of the practice and the foreignness of it seemed imbued
with and intertwined with the culture of Japan. I somehow had this idea
that if I could understand the culture that this particular kind of
Buddhism came from I would understand Ďití better. My interest and
fascination of it did not come from reading about it or discussing it. In
fact, the direction of my life at that time felt like it was out of
control so the grounding and focus that the practice gave me turned that
around. I particularly liked the concrete rituals involved in the
practice, zazen, chanting, bowing, oryoki, bells, hans, offering incense.

DC: Did you have any
prior inclination or had you ever run into anything that interested you
like meditation?

SH: No. My
interests were mostly in music. I was especially drawn to music of India,
flamenco, Arabic music, Appalachian music, Greek music.

Also, palmistry,
astrology, tarot, I Ching. And I practiced Yoga with Sivananda in San
Francisco until he moved to Canada. But Zen Buddhism was not something I
knew anything about. But if you are talking about the pursuit of the
spiritual - yes, that was always there in my life.

DC: What was that,
what were you raised with?

SH: I was raised
with nothing. My parents were Catholic and they were excommunicatedÖ.

DC: They were
excommunicated?

SH: They were
excommunicated because they didnít get married in the church.

DC: No kidding?

SH: I thought that
was really wild once I knew what that meant because they were so
harmless. It seemed so strange.

DC: Wow! I never
heard of that.

So where do you come
from?

SH: Milwaukee. So
my parents didnít say or do anything about any religion or any belief
system. It was just a big blank.

DC: So when do you
remember that you started wondering about it?

SH: Between around 6
and 11 years. I lived in a housing project during the war that was built
for low income families of service menÖ.

DC: You mean WWII?

SH: Yeah, WWII.

DC: When were you
born?

SH: 1942.

DC: Oh really? Oh.
Iím surprised. You look younger than that.

Ah, good for you.
Whatís your birthday?

SH: May 4.

DC: Oh. Youíve got
seven days till your birthday.

SH: So, there were a
lot of kids living there and I interacted with them every day. Almost all
of them went to some church or the other with their families and my
parents didnít. So I attached myself to them and asked if I could go to
church with this family or that family in turn. I wanted to know what
that was all about. It was a mystery. So I tried a lot of churches
because I was seeking something that was missing for me.

DC: At what age?
You were trying out churches!

SH: Probably around
six or seven. I didnít think of it that way.

DC: You would say,
ďMommy can I go to church with so-and-soĒ?

SH: Something like
that. The first one was a Baptist Church. There was a hidden waist high
water container in back of the altar and all I could see was the top part
of someone walking. You could hear the water sloshing around, and then the
minister would immerse the person backwards and they would disappear and
then reappear dripping water. They wanted me to join that church but when
I asked if I would have to do that and they said yes, I gave them back the
bible they had given me and said sorry I canít do that.

So ever since I
remember there was something that I was seeking that wasnít available in
every day life Ė something spiritual.

DC: So, you werenít
around the Zen Center before Tim invited you there, because I was living
at Tassajara then and I can remember you back then, and I remember that
story I told that I think we should include of you going to the very
famous astrologer, Gavin Arthur, who lived next door to me. I lived with
Tim and Loring. Tim moved in with Loring and me over there on Buchanan
street and thatís the last place I lived in before I went to Tassajara.
You saw Gavin and you were very upset afterwards because Gavin had told
you that because you have this Grand Square in your chart that it would be
impossible for you to get enlightened. And you were very upset. And I
went, oh, no no no Ė Simeon Nash.

So I took you to
Simeon Nash. Simeon was sort of an heir of Gavin and they were both gay.
Simeon was the opposite. He was such a nice guy. I could say other
negative things about Gavin but Simeon was a sweetie pie. Iíd bring
people to him and he would do charts for them and Iíd give him a loaf of
bread. He would do it for a loaf of bread. So he did yours and he said
you had potential. He said it could be seen as a difficulty but it is
great potential.

SH: I still
remember some of the things Gavin Arthur said that were so scary and
ominous.

DC: Power
tripping. Wanting to have power over people by scaring them. This is a
priest trip. Priests do that, the hell fire thing. Gavin also turned in
somebody. It was a guy who lived in that building that Gavin was after,
maybe he was a young gay protťgť who burned him or something, and he
turned him in to the police for having marijuana.

SH: He really didnít
like women.

DC: Yeah! I always
associated Gavin with young men. He was not bad to me, but of course I
was a young man and used to being around gay men. My mother was involved
with the arts and stuff. I met Alan Watts and Jano there at his place
which was a great honor, maybe Gary Snyder too I canít remember now. But
it was neat having Gavin next door but he did do some bad things
sometimes.

Letís go back a
little way to the way seeking mind. Did you do anything in high school
around that?

SH: Not really. I
just always had the feeling that there was something more, something
beyond every day, but not going to church.

DC: Did you go to
college any?

SH: I went to San
Francisco State for a while. But I was trying to major in music without a
music background and it didnít work out.

DC: When I met you
in í66 you would have been 24. I didnít realize then, I can tell you.
You seemed to me to be about my age. So but that age in your 20ís with
all this spiritual stuff happening the first thing that really happened
was with Tim and Sokoji?

SH: Before that I
came to California in 1962 with a woman I met in Milwaukee who was coming
to U.C. Berkeley to get her Masterís Degree in art. After we came to San
Francisco she met Ginny Baker. Ginny was coming to Tassajara to do the
inventory after Zen Center bought it. Thatís how I first came to
Tassajara. I went with her and Ginny to Tassajara to do the kitchen
inventory.

DC: And I worked
with Ginny because Iím the one who bought things for the dining room.
Ginny selected the plates and the silverware and this and that.

But I would go out
and buy it. She was sort of the interior decorator and I was the one
doing the work. I was the one who made the first napkin rings. I went out
and selected bamboo and this and that.

SH: This woman,
Renee, who knew GinnyÖ.

DC: Renee what?

SH: Renee Luby.

DC: Oh, I know Renee
Luby. You came out with Renee Luby? She ran the Montessori school and my
sister was the secretary for the Montessori school.

Yvonne got Susan
that job at the Montessori school. Ginny and Yvonne started that school.
I went with Yvonne when she first looked at the school.

SH: Renee asked me
to come and be the lunch cook at the Montessori school during the time she
was the director and I did that for a while. That is probably around the
time when I first met you since your sister worked there. I remember you
and someone else from the Zen Center moving a used freezer or refrigerator
into the kitchen at the school (a freebie) over the weekend and it turned
out to be full of cockroaches! I came back on Monday and the kitchen was
full of them and we never could get rid of them.

So that is probably
why you remember me from before I was at Sokoji and involved with the Zen
Center.

DC: Do you remember
your first impression of Suzuki Roshi? The first time you saw him, what
you thought of him?

SH: Not the first
time. After that first time at Tassajara which was only 1 or 2 days, I
wanted to go to Tassajara and was told to practice in the city for 6
months before I could go there. I practiced for several months at Sokoji
every day. I only lived Ĺ block away and I sat before and after work and
on Saturday mornings. Suzuki Roshi gave lectures, Bill Kwong would make
breakfast and we all ate together.

DC: Did you have
any involvement with the Zen Center after it moved to Page Street?

SH: Not really.

DC: Well what
happened then?

SH: I moved to
Berkeley around 1970 or Ď71. In í72 I had a child and was a single
parent. My active involvement with the Zen Center ended around then.

DC: What happened
to the baby?

SH: Heís 40 years
old this year. He has spent the last 7 years in Southeast Asia
traveling. Following Buddha Ė he wanted to see the birthplace, the Bodhi
Tree Ė all of the places connected to Buddha. After that he settled in
Thailand, got married and has two children. Heís here now and working on
bringing his wife and kids here soon.

DC: Heís 40 years
old this year. My son is 38 and he was born in í73 so he was born in í72.

SH: Right. I
remember that while I was still living in San Francisco in the late Ď60ís
I took care of Amber, Kathy and Silasí daughter, for a while until she was
3 months old. Kathy was unable to care for Amber shortly after she was
born so Masa, Gary Snyderís wife, cared for her for about a month. Masa
had just had her second child and the baby had to be hospitalized so Masa
took Amber, cared for her and breastfeed her (that way she was able to
breastfeed her own baby later on). I was helping by taking care of Kai,
Gary and Masaís first child who was about 2 years old then. Gary wasnít
around at the time so I lived there for a short time, cooked for Masa and
Kai. Alan Watts came to see her once while I was there. When Masaís baby
came home from the hospital, Silas asked me if I would take care of Amber
until Kathy recovered. So Amber came to live with me in San Francisco
until she was about 3 months old.

When Silas and Kathy
took Amber I was bereft because we had bonded during that time. She was a
delightful baby. Neither Silas nor Kathy visited Amber except once or
twice during the time I was caring for her so I didnít know when they were
going to take her back. A practice period (the first one with Tatsugami
Roshi, the spring of Ď69) was just starting and I wanted to go to it but I
was told to interview with Suzuki Roshi since it was too late to
register. So I met with him. He was very gracious and served tea and
gave me a small wooden bench to sit on.

I told him why I was
consulting with him and said that I wanted to go to Tassajara to have
something hard to throw myself into because of missing Amber.

He said if you want
to do something difficult the hardest thing would be to stay right where
you are. He was right, of course. But he approved my application anyway
and I was allowed to go to Tassajara again. That was my second practice
period.

DC: Do you have any
involvement now with any practice or group?

SH: I sat at the
Berkeley Zen Center for a while. In the early Ď80ís I heard from a client
of mine about Ekai Korematsu who was the priest at a small family zendo in
Oakland in the attic of the home of Yoshie and Kaz, the owners of Yoshiís
restaurant. So I started sitting there and served as Treasurer there for
over 30 years until about 2 years ago. Around 1987 Gengo Akiba became the
resident priest. A couple of years later they moved a few blocks away and
eventually built a small Japanese temple on the property in Oakland. I
still practice there.

DC: Thatís very
interesting. Iíve never interviewed anyone who said anything about
Yoshiís zendo. I've sat there and visited Yoshi and Gengo a few times.

Is there anything
else you want to say?

SH: I had a dream
early in the morning about the time that Suzuki Roshi was dying. I was
living for a short time in Oregon and didnít know that Roshi was dying.
In the dream Suzuki Roshi was at Sokoji downstairs in the part of the
temple reserved for the Japanese congregation. He was zooming down one of
the aisles towards the altar and his feet werenít touching the ground. As
he went he kept taking different hats on and off his head. When he got to
the altar he fell down onto it and his head cracked open and started
bleeding. After that I was in a room that looked like a room at Sokoji
where they have Dokusan during a sesshin. I was standing below a raised
platform where Mrs. Suzuki and Suzuki Roshi were sitting side by side.
Okusan shook her finger at me and said, ďNow you have to take care of
himĒ. Later when I found out that he died at that same time it didnít
surprise me because he had such a profound effect on so many lives.